Silver in the Blood
by Sci F.I. Warper
Summary: When Will returns after another decade of his duties, he finds a pair of girls one older, one younger They carry with them a strange talisman which might change history for the better. Major POTC3 SPOILERS You have been warned!
1. Prologue

A.N. Okay, I came up with this after watching POTC3 which is SO SO SO AWESOME! Anyway, there will be spoilers for POTC3 so don't read if you haven't seen and still want the suprise. 'Kay? 'kay.

Disclaimer: Me own nothing. Me want Jack (especially shirtless, rock throwing Jack) But me have no Jack.

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"And so, Captain Jack Sparrow and his mostly loyal crew sailed off to the next horizon..." the old man said, slowly lowering his arms as the last words died on his lips. He looked down and smiled at his captivated audience. 

A small girl, about six or seven, stared back at him with a look of awed adoration. She was a thin little thing, with fair skin and a well rounded face. Her light red hair hung all over, but her blue eyes shined with excitement. Were it not for the covers cocooning her, the girl would certainly have jumped from her bed in the small attic room.

"Did that really happen, Grandpa?" she asked, her eyes widening.

The old man's smile widened. It was a magic kind of smile. The kind that seemed to melt away years from his face without touching a single wrinkle upon it.

"Aye, my little Lassie," he said, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger, "It did, true as I'm sittin' here."

The little girl's mouth opened to exclaim something when a sudden snort came from the other side of the room. Both old man and girl turned to look across the room at the snort's owner, a young woman sitting up in her own bed. The older girl had similar red hair and blue eyes, though her face had narrowed with maturity. It was obvious to anyone she was the little child's older sister, yet there was something hardened, colder in her features then those of the little girl. She looked like one whose own fantasies had ended in devastation and she herself had given up on them entirely. Of course, it didn't help that the light from the slim candles sitting on the nightstand beneath the wide window and the last rays of sunset in it cast eerie shadows over the room's three occupants.

"Grandfather," the teenager whined calmly, "Would you please not excite her so? I've lost enough sleep tonight as it is."

"You didn't have to stay up and listen!" argued the little girl, defending her grandpa.

"What else was I going to do?" replied her sister sternly, "Someone has to make sure you get to bed, child."

"That's not your job!" cried the little girl.

"Children! Enough!" the old man's voice rose above the pair of them, "Anne, calm down. Your sister's right, you've had enough excitement for one evening. Elizabeth, let her be. She's young and she will grow."

Elizabeth sniffed at the comment, laid down, and turned her back to the pair. She didn't see the wave of sadness pass through her grandfather's eyes. But as quickly as it came, it vanished as he turned his attention back to the little girl.

"Here," he said, placing his hand to his neck, "I have something for you, love."

The child looked at him curiously as he made a swift jerk and pulled out a thin silver chain, and on it hung a small silver bullet. Seeing the talisman, the little girl gasped.

"What is that, Grandpa?" she asked,breathlessly.

The old man's eyes twinkled mischieviously.

"This," he said, his voice low, "This is the very bullet I pulled from ol' Captain Sparrow me-self."

Anne's eyes grew, if possibly, wider.

"Really?" she said in a whisper.

"Aye," replied her grandfather.

"Was that before or after you shot Barbossa dead?" Elizabeth called out.

Her Grandfather turned to glower at the bed, but said nothing. Turning back to Anne, he carefully strung the chain and bullet to her bed post.

"This has been my lucky charm all my days," he said, "And now I give it to you."

Anne smiled, marveling as the chain swung the bullet back and forth. A moment passed, and suddenly she scrunched her nose in confusion.

"But, Grandpa," she exclaimed, "Where will you get your luck now?"

"I don't need it anymore," said her grandfather with a smile, "I've got you and Elizabeth. Now, into bed. And don't turn those eyes on me, love. I won't fall for it."

The little girl lowered her face, jutting her lip out poutingly as she complied to his wishes. The old man smiled, stood up, and leaned in to give her a kiss on the head.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered kindly.

"Goodnight, Grandpa," came back the innocent reply.

The old man turned to cross the room, ducking beneath a low rafter. Reaching Elizabeth's bed, he gave the young woman a light kiss on her head, but said nothing. He knew he would get not reply if he did. Walking to the window, he pulled up on a string on the floor, revealing a trap door. Turning to the table, he blew out the candles with a quick puff. Fire light immediately rose from the opening on the floor, and the old man descended the steps, closing the top behind him.

Several minutes passed in silence. A creak of bed. Then another creak. Another followed this and then another. Finally Elizabeth flipped over, glaring into the shadows towards her sister's bed.

"Anne, go to sleep," she practically snarled.

"Put the bullet on the window," came back the reply.

Elizabeth jerked back in suprise.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed.

"Put the bullet on the window," Anne begged, "I want us both to have luck."

"Anne, that's just one of Grandfather's stories," said Elizabeth, "It's not..."

"Please?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes in annoyance and let out a controled sigh. Flipping the blankets off herself, she slowly shuffled to her little sister's bed. Feeling the post, her hand connected with the chain, which she unwound. Shuffling to the window and wondering why she was doing this, she attached the chain to a small knot in the sill. The last remants of sunset reflected against it's surface, making the bullet glow a deep red. Elizabeth rubbed her arms as a shiver ran down her spine. Turning back to her bed, she got in and hurriedly threw her covers back on.

Looking back at her sister, she said, "Now go to sleep."

The order was pointless, however, since Anne's eyes were already closed in slumber. Elizabeth frowned again, before turning over and closing her eyes. She didn't see the sun finally sink into the sea. Nor did she see the flash of green along the horizon.


	2. Homecoming

The next thing either girl heard was the unmistakable sound of cannon fire. First awake, Elizabeth bolted up staring at the window. Inky blackness filled the sky behind it. A thick, suffocating blackness that gave her an uneasy feeling. Blinking, she sat up, placing her feet on the floor. The wood felt rough and cold beneath her bare feet. She paused a moment, holding her breath, hoping that the sound was just in her own imagination. Seconds stretched to minutes while nothing happened.

The explosion of light made her shriek as the house shook from the near miss. Bolting from her bed, Elizabeth ran to the window. Outside, pure chaos had erupted. The docks and yards were in flames. The fire's glow rose towards the heavens, only to be swallowed in the monstrous black smoke that had settled along the cove. Mixing in with the nightly mist, the sky seemed to enjoy giving cover to the port's attackers. Despite how close the house was to the sea, Elizabeth could see nothing of detail.

"Lizzie?" a soft, tired voice forced her to intake a sharp breath. Turning, Elizabeth saw Anne sit up in bed. The little girl blinked tiredly, squinting through her sleep to focus on her sister, "Wha's goin' on?"

Elizabeth let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She opened her mouth to tell the little girl to run downstairs when she heard the pop of gunfire below her. Whirling back to the window, she could make out the flashes of pistols through the hazy smoke. To her utter horror, she saw the flashes coming closer to the house.

"Merciful God!" she cried, turning back to her sister, "Anne, get up now!"

The little girl jerked awake, her eyes heavy as her mind remained still in the land of dreams. She looked at Elizabeth sourly, but the older girl paid her no mind. Running to her sister, Elizabeth grabbed the girl, blanket and all into her arms. Running to the trapdoor, in no way inhibited by the dark, she hooked her foot onto the rope and pulled it up. Another round of gunfire came outside, close enough now that the flashes illuminated the still swinging silver bullet.

"My bullet!" called Anne, lucid enough to see the glow. The little girl began to wriggle, trying to free herself from her sister's grasp.

"What? Anne, forget the bullet!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she tried again to pull up the trapdoor. She could barely think in her panic. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she had to use both arms to restrain the wriggling Anne. On top of this, everytime she tried opening the trapdoor she'd almost lose her balance.

"Elizabeth!" Anne whined, somehow not realizing the danger they were in. The little girl pressed her hand into sister's shoulder.

"Anne, for the love of God be quiet!" Elizabeth snapped, dropping the little girl to the floor, "We have to get out of here!"

Dropping down, the older girl renched open the door. To both her relief and horror, there were no lights. Glancing over at her little sister, she saw the child at the window, grasping the bullet. In the flashes of fire, she saw the young girl's face had paled and her eyes had widened.

"Anne, get away from the window!" Elizabeth bolted up, grabbing onto her sister. The little girl jerked at the immediate touch, before holding on to the other girl for dear life. As she picked her up, Elizabeth took a brief glance out the window. A streak of moonlight broke through the haze in that moment, illuminating the cove.

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face as well. From her vantage point, the one she had looked from almost every day of her life, the port city she had called her home her entire life was no more. Golden flames rose, encompassing everything where they were not muted by black smoke. The fields along the cliffs were barren, illuminated by flashes of gunfire. The stone sentinal tower was gone. Worse of all, as the moonlight faded into the black, the last rays fell on a line of ships. An entire armada of attack.

Clutching Anne, Elizabeth turned and ran to the steps. Racing down them without notice, she ran for the servant's door. The dark did nothing to stop her till she hit her leg against the dinning room table edge. Biting her lips to hold back the cry, she ran to the door. To her suprise, the air outside greeted her skin with a pleasant coolness through her thin night-gown.

Her grandfather's home had been shrewdly placed for it's time. Sitting atop a particularly steep cliff, it had to paths extending from it. The first led directly to the town, though the path called for walking along the cliff's side to get to a point of gentler descent. The second path, and the one only Elizabeth and her grandfather knew of, was slightly more dangerous if you didn't know how to navigate it. It also led to town eventually, but not before stopping beside her grandfather's own private dock.

Without a second thought, Elizabeth turned right, pitching herself and Anne down the private path. Sharp rocks dug themselves into her feet as she ran, but she paid them no mind. One thought alone made it through her terrified mind, a memory from after Anne's third birthday.

_"Elizabeth," Grandfather said, looking seriously upon the twelve year old girl, "You must always remember this place."_

_"Why, Grandfather?" questioned the girl, glancing around the dock. Newly built wood planks hung slightly above the water's surface. Beside them sat a small boat with a slight sail._

_"Because," said the old man, solemn and direct, "If something should happen, and I do not wake you, take your sister here and set sail."_

_He focused his gaze onto the girl till her eyes met his._

_"Do you understand, Elizabeth?"_

_"Yes, Grandfather."_

The dock wood had corrupted some in the years following. Elizabeth forced herself to slow her pace, cautiously stepping out. She took only a minute to reach the boat, still floating like new beside it. Placing Anne in it, she eased herself in as well.

"Elizabeth, what is this?" Anne's voice was small and meek. Terrified by what she had witnessed, "Where's Grandpa?"

"I explain later," said Elizabeth, irritantly, "Please, just be quiet."

The teenager unwrapped the rope holding the boat to the dock. Reaching down she picked up one of two oars. Using the long piece of wood, she pushed off. The boat moved silently in the water, hardly breaking the surface. Slowly, ever so slowly, it crawled towards the line of ships encompassing the area.

As they drew closer, Elizabeth found herself shaking. The ship were huge! Dark and overbearing, they unleashed another volley of violence on the town. Elizabeth was sure her heart stopped at the sound, and felt most certainly dead when a collective wail rose along the water. Anne and her looked at each other for a moment before the little girl shuffled uneasily to her sister's side. Terrified, she grasped around her sister's waist.

"Lizzie, w-where's Grandpa?" she stuttered, her voice thick.

" I don't know," whispered Elizabeth, "Anne, get down."

Pulling the little girl beside her Elizabeth laid herself and Anne as low in the boat as she could. Soon, the shadow of one ship fell upon the pair of them.

SPLASH!

Water sloshed into the boat, soaking both girls. Elizabeth felt Anne squiggle at getting wet, and grasped the young girl's mouth to prevent her from crying out. Anne struggled, letting out a muffled cry.

"Shh," Elizabeth whispered in her ear.

Anne stopped instantly, pressing against her sister again. Elizabeth closed her eyes, praying the boat would go unnoticed, or, as a darker part of her mind pointed out, that it would sink quickly. Somehow, though, providence seemed on their side, for the boat floated unseen past the ship. Elizabeth forced Anne and herself to remain flat in the boat. With easy stillness, it moved through the water, rocking as it hit a riffle. Minutes of silence passed, and then the unearthly screaming of the town vanished altogether. Elizabeth's breath hitched in her throat and she held onto Anne tighter, knowing the child wouldn't understand the significance.

Minutes passed, possibly hours. The black grew grey, grew damp, grew to foriegn, cold starlight. Elizabeth glanced over the boat's edge. In the distance, the cliffs grew smaller and smaller. Anne shuddered beneath her. Letting out a sigh, Elizabeth layed down again. Staring into the heavens, she never noticed sleep overtake her.

It took less time before the shadow of a large ship passed over them. Its sails glowed ghostly white in the darkness, as bits of dead seaweed and mollusk clung to its hull. Sharp edges stuck out, warning anyone to not come near. Neither girl saw this monster of the sea as it passed by them. Neither girl heard the calls from it. Neither girl felt several pairs of strong arms lift them from what would have been their grave. Neither girl smelled the salt and decay of a long voyage. Neither girl knew that one hand approached the ships captain, asking what to do with the two bodies.

"Are they alive?" the captain demanded.

"Aye, sir, barely," replied the hand, frowning, "Yer not thinking what I think ye are."

The captain frowned.

"It's none of your concern," replied the captain crossly.

"Aye, yer right. Just remember, ye can only set foot on land this one day. I'd advise ye not to waste it," said the hand, turning to his duties.

"I have no intention of wasting it!" exclaimed the captain crossly, and added softly, "Father."

Looking down at the crew members holding the bodies, he nodded.

"Get them below," he said, "Put them in my cabin."

A volley of affirmatives sounded from the crew. The captain looked up, back to the horizon. Soft tears filled his eyes as he turned the wheel east. Placing a hand on his chest, he felt the scar along its front.

"Welcome home," he muttered to himself.

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Phew, long chapter. Hope you like it. More Will (and Jack) in the next one! Reviews are like money, you can't have too much of it! 


	3. Capture?

"I see...yes, that's very good."

The voice was young, kind, and full of humor as it broke through the barrier of sleep to Elizabeth. As she heard it, the darkness of oblivion suddenly seem to lift and a warm, glowing feeling of safety filled her. As the feeling stretched through, Elizabeth stretched slightly, flinching back as she felt a small sting along the soles of her feet. Opening her eyes, she found herself beneath a thin brown blanket.

_This isn't mine!_

The first thought to come to mind set a feeling of dread to her stomach. Reaching out, she tore the cloth away from herself as she sat up. Bright sunlight greeted her, forcing her to turn her face away for a moment. Blinking away the splotches before her eyes, Elizabeth looked around the room, her feeling of dread reaching a climax of absolute panic. The room was empty of all life, save her own. No one to speak to, or who could have spoken. The sunlight came from across the room from windows surrounding a malignant torrent of mental and wood, stretching to the ceiling.

Elizabeth sank back against the wall, staring wide-eyed at the monstrosity. The long pipes stretching with their single black eyes fixed on her. Oustide, the familiar sound of crashing waves and seagulls blanketed her senses. Glancing on either side of her, Elizabeth saw a door on her right. Glancing back at the organ, she fought to swallow down her fear, cautiously placing a foot on the floor. Again, a small sting hit her soles stretching up her leg. Letting out a muted cry, she yanked the leg back.

Cradling the foot, she bent down to investigate. To her shock, several scratches covered the skin in spiderweb pattern. Picking up the other foot, she found a similar pattern on the other. Scruntching her face in confusion, she looked around the barren room again, staring fixedly at the organ. Nervously, she placed her feet again on the floor, flinching at the sting. Shakily she stood and slowly crossed towards it. Shifting left, she pressed herself against the wall closest to her. Inching as close as she dared to the impossing instrument, she stretched to her toes, only to fall back as pain shot up the back of her leg. Letting out a moan, she eased herself against the wall, not resisting gravity as it brought her down.

For a minute she sat there, feeling the movement of the floor beneath her feet. _A ship, _she realized, her heart sinking in her chest, _I'm on a ship._ And in that moment everything came back to her in a rush. The attack on the town, her missing grandfather, her and Anne's rushed escape, the sinking sensation of falling asleep not knowing if she would wake again.

Sniffling, she blinked away the tears springing to her eyes. She realized the cuts on her feet were from the sharp rocks. The realization made a sliver of cold slide down her back, causing her to shudder. Sniffing again, she gently began pushing herself to her feet when the door slung open.

"ELIZABETH!" Anne's gleeful voice rang out as the small girl tackled her stunned older sister to the ground with a large hug, "I knew you'd wake up soon. Can you believe it? We're on the ship. We're on the real ship. All Grandpa's stories were true!"

The little one would have kept babbling on, had it not been for Elizabeth pushing her away for a moment. The older girl stared at the younger one for the longest time with an expression of pure shock.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" the innocent confusion of the small girl broke Elizabeth from her spell.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, "I'm fine."

Wrapping her little sister in a hug, she allowed herself to cry just a little. Seeming to sense the need for relief, Anne remained silent, hugging her back. A moment later, Elizabeth released her. Brushing away the remaining tears, the older girl suddenly realized she and Anne were not the only one in the room. In the doorway stood a man, several years older then herself. His long hair was dark, but neatly tied back. He was tall, with a narrow, strong face tanned by sun. He held himself like a leader, tired by long command but still ready to serve the interest of his men. His dark brown eyes studied the girls with a mix of compassion, sadness, and longing.

Pulling Anne to her side, Elizabeth glared untrustingly at him.

"Who are you?" she demanded, ignoring Anne's struggling.

The man lifted his head, looking at her directly. He shifted his gaze to Anne for a moment and then to her but did not speak.

"His name's Will, Lizzie," Anne finally managed to say, as she stopped wriggling, "He's captain."

Elizabeth glanced at her sister and back at the man.

"Captain," she said, "And what does the captain want with us?"

"Simply to make sure you are well," replied Will calmly as he took a step into the room. Elizabeth pulled back, placing a protective arm over Anne, "We found you and your sister on our port side and rescued you."

"Did you now?" said Elizabeth, ignoring the outraged complaints of her sister, "Well, we thank you for the rescue, but if you would be so kind as to drop us near the closest land, we'll find ourselves a place to stay."

A dry smile crossed Will's features.

"I'm afraid," he said resolutely, "I can not do that..."

He paused at the flash crossing Elizabeth's eyes. It was one that seemed all to familiar. One he had been forced to see cross an old friend's face once, and had been unable to do anything to stop the fate

"Why not?" demanded Elizabeth, breaking through the feeling of bitter regret.

Will shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"It-It would be inappropriate," he replied cooly, "To leave two young maidens as yourselves at the hands of the wilderness."

He paused to level his eyes to clearly meet Elizabeth's, "We will leave you at a port of our choosing."

To his suprise the girl laughed. Looking down at her little sister for a moment before she returned match his gaze with one of her own.

"Do not think me a fool, Captain," she replied, her voice low, "It is no small feat to assume you were responsible for the attack of our ship, and since we are not dead, I can only assume you mean us for worse fates. I swear to you, if you or your men lay a hand on us, I will kill you."

Again, Will felt a feeling of nostalgic reminescence flow through him.

"Then you best be designing our demise right now," he commented dryly, "For how else were we to take you comfortably to my cabin."

Nodding to the furious girl, he turned and walked to the door. Opening it, he paused for a moment.

"As it were," he added, "This is the most comfortable room aboard," he turned to look at the girls, "If we meant you any harm, you would be in the brig. Consider that before you make assumptions over actions you do not understand, Miss Sparrow."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Elizabeth to stare blankly at the door.

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A.N. (inserts evil laugh) So, the secret's out. Don't worry, how Will came to that conclusion will be revealed in the next chapter, and then the real fun can begin. (inserts another evil laugh) Unfortunately, I'll be on vacation, so it'll take me a while to finally update. Sorry (ducks behind Norrington, Jack, and Will) 


	4. Matters of the heart

The cool sea spray felt good against his face as Will climbed the steps to his usual post. The coxswain nodded at his approach, backing over to the other edge of the wheel and overlooking the sea.

"We'll find port soon, sir," the man mumbled, keeping his eyes down. Will repressed an inward sigh. Eighty years he had sailed with these men. Eighty years they had helped him do his duty. For eighty years they had treated him as though he were going to become the dreaded Davy Jones.

Despite having released them from their service aboard, most had stayed with him. It was generally claimed that while they had no loyalty to Will or Jones, most felt it unnatural to leave a ship as fast and as famous as the Dutchman alone and unmanned. Will knew that was not true though. Most of the men, in all honesty, had no where else to go. Jones had robbed them of the remainder of their lives and the families they could never return to again. It was simply easier to go about the life they had been living for so long.

Will nodded, replying, "Of that I do not doubt."

Continuing his movement to the back of the ship, Will leaned against the railing and looked out at the sea. Sunlight reflected across the deep blue in a thousand different directions. Glancing up, Will squinted into the afternoon sun. Already, he had begun to feel the pull of the other world, beckoning him to perform his unending task, to guide the souls.

It was a burden, a heavy burden. With weights he had known, but not at first accepted, that he would bear. Strange as it seemed, it had hurt to have to ferry Norrington's soul across the way. While he had not always liked the man, felt jealous for how close he had come to having Elizabeth, he had respected him. He had known then what final fate had awaited him.

It had begun slowly at first. Gibbs had appeared, moving close to the Dutchman. Will was certain the old sailor could see the audience of attentive listeners, all eager for one of his endless tales. Barbossa had followed close behind. Ragetti next, with Pintel following close behind. Will had been unable to supress a small smile as the two argued over their position, ever the same in death as they were in life. She had been the last to come...

"Ye know you're wastin' time," a voice called Will out of his revelry.

Will turned to look at his father, a stony expression on his face. Yet, whether by experience or simple paternal strength, Bootstrap Bill did not seem to notice. The old sailor wearily approached Will, leaning against the rail beside him with a sigh. Neither spoke for a moment. Will glanced out of the corner of his eye, waiting for Bill to speak. Again, he felt a pain of regret as he looked at his father.

With his deal with Jones broken, Bill had chosen voluntarily to stay with his son aboard. Because of this, he had been granted a prolonged life, but not an eternal one. Already, the years were beginning to gather for their full assult on him. His hair had more grey in it then before, and more lines covered his face. Still, his father remained aboard, stubborn but obediant to his captain.

"No, I wasn't blatantly aware of that fact," Will responded sarcastically, turning back to the sea. He heard Bill let out a light chuckle, a rare commodity on board.

"Ye're too much like your mother," said Bill, rubbing his hands together, "Too kind a heart."

"What heart?" replied Will, "Mine was cut out long ago."

Again he turned back to the sea, allowing the bitterness of the statement settle for a time. Not much time was needed to do so, for the arguement was an old one and the air surrounding it well worn and well prepared to convey it.

"Ye have heart, boy," said Bill, seemingly unaffected by the bitterness, "Heart is what it takes to take in souls nearly gone and give them a chance at life."

Will stiffened, forcing away his feelings.

Turning back to Bill he exclaimed, "I did what was necessary. It wasn't fair or right to leave them there, only to see them again in a night! Mortals deserve better then that!"

"Ye'll have no arguement from me," Bill replied passively, "Ye're de captain. It's your right to use your power as ye will."

Then, leaning in he added in a whisper, "But ye best be careful, Will. There's reason's for the old myths."

With that, the old pirate turned and vanished down the steps. Will remained behind, glancing absently at the sea. Precious minutes passed when the sudden cry of land resounded admits the ship.

Jumping to his feet, Will crossed to the wheel. Taking the spyglass handed to him, he gazed in the direction his coxswain pointed. A grim smile crossed his face as he lowered it.

"Tortuga," he muttered to himself.

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Sorry for the delay in chapters. This one took a while to formulate and then the whole new dog and crashed computer didn't help. But, now I'm back, so yeah. Hope you enjoyed. 


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